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Styles 12 Apr 2017
If my eyes could write the sea
  would it be stilled after the cannonball roar of your
shattering  arctic breeze?

If my hands could tame your waves
with a light that craves your name
  will you show me how to sing
    the burdens off of me?

If my burn reflects the sun
   and seagulls cry my name
would you listen to my pleas
as the entire world will swallow me?

If my eyes could write the sea
and the storm roll over me
would she still remember
  how her hand once set us free?

If my silence could ever speak
  and reflect what I truly mean
will mercy hold a warm room
           meant  for me?

When the sunset cannot be caged
  and visions bloom through sea
will the promise of your return
set every person free?

When darkness stains my tears
and crew is lost at sea
as the Captain navigates in doubt:
  
Do you promise to visit me?

If my eyes could write the sea
  and my love return your breeze
would you remember to sail
the holy mystic three?

When the Captain is completely beat and the madness
of the waves  retreat-

The Angels of the sea will appear
to mend his broken feet.
Styles 12 Apr 2017
I breathe benevolence in wild dust of tumbleweed.

I store a thousand miles of moonlight in my crunched up tangle.

My scented hair holds the essence of night diamond winds.

I gather my life, curl by curl
  twist by twist, rolling through like knotted midnights-

A bruising ball of spike and thorn.

  I will sweep through deserts like a wild thing.

I come out of nephilim scars.

Weep the outcasted country of fallen angels.

Tortured rambler of ghost war roar.

I am torn loose
my thistles flow rapid
   like a giant ball of desert song
     haunting the darkness in
          moonlight wind.
Styles 12 Apr 2017
She walks skyline tightrope stretched from east to west.

Her fuschia blaze at dawn plucks your eyes, makes them ache to sing.

She steamrolls out through every shade of blue, knowing who is watching.

She calls to you.

Untamed delicious feelings breaking every rule of conformity.

She lives in your pen.

Scatters the colors in your mind like abstract paintings you stare at for days.

She will visit you, a child's knock at the window.

Rising to see, she will show you how her dew landed in the grass.

Her light will sparkle shredded rainbow points into your eyes, marking them all day.

She will follow you,
her stellar reach knows no bounds.

Silently stepping, her sterling silver smoke wraps itself under the moon
at the tip of dawn, a rainbow march of gigantic proportions.

When you understand her
you can connect to her.

She will dazzle your eyes on both sides.

Sun.
Moon.
Color flash.
Deep orange.
Pineapple crush.
Crimson slashes.
Apricot orchards.

Violet bruise floats.

She bursts through enthusiastic sky
like a reigning champion.

My ink spellbound as she crosses over me.

She will tap dance in your dreams,
words slicking over ice
   skating ripples of moonlight
     through everything,

        bringing your ink to
             lustful explosions.
Styles 12 Apr 2017
Blue steel above you
  no sail is tall enough
to put in my eyes
just for one chance to chisel
at what lies at the core of you.

Every one has a theory.
Freedom. Love. Immortality.

My imitation for capture
  blindfolds me in witchhunt
as I walk the haunted circle
  listening for the eruption of
silent stones to save me.
Styles 12 Apr 2017
The mystery machine
  inside me knows more than me.

I have felt it do impossible, unnamed things.

Secretive marches streaming in night missions, pulling armies of light through me.

My lips have not uttered it.
My silence cries alone, thinking of it.
I felt the river of God break me, inside, where it all makes sense.

You took my words, crushed them all, left me with this expansion inside where you have obliterated every wound I ever felt.

How do I proceed to the next stage, now that my pollution is gone, and the water holds the sun, rushing through me like a heavenly beam of purity?

All my locomotive prayers shapeshift to liquid on my cheeks.

I will wait for you to March.
My tears quaking in another world.
My understanding reaching for more.

The keys to your door gleaming in the feelings this mystery machine produces as I sway helpless from your beloved wind.
Styles 12 Apr 2017
I could not measure you by drops
  even though I felt them soften
    every thistle threatening
          to over take the meadow
              of my humanity.

The only way back to YOU
    relied on
                     rainfall,

putting out the deep seeded violence of the fire
mowing through grass
destroying everything

I held sacred, or so I thought.

      The only way back to YOU
             relied on rainfall

I had to generate
from deep within.

My meadow no longer burns
but grows with what I saw
    smile at me
       in her emerald enchanted eyes
            on a day when happiness
                never ends.
Styles 12 Apr 2017
You started out with hawk eyes
  born with incredible winds at your back, your feathers smelled like a pine forest soaring just inches away from a never depleted lake.

You started out invincible
anything possible was allowed to climb stairways hidden in your mind's eye.

  You started forth wandering in the great expanse of imagination, a new heart tucked away inside with an invisible leader who reeked of enchantment and endless wonders.

Before horror struck us dead and the fall of Atlantis we were connected to the power of something rich and real, a radio station with endless channels.

Before the fall,
You played in everything unlimited, drew innocence
  on a luminous feather and let it drift careless on clean winds that knew how to speak crisp
  between rough walls of mountain sides living three inches apart from each other.

Before the scrape of hate entered like a voice thundering from all directions sending so many mad leaves swirling in confusion leading us astray.

I want to speak to the men who do not trust other men because of the violence planted deep down in their soil.

I want to put my hand in the silent dirt of your wound and wash your eyes with waters of remembrance.

I want you to strike me with every black whip vengeance you felt on your back, every betrayal burning off wings from your once invincible hawk that we both know flew uninhibited skies in your priceless heart and I want you to remember that feeling before they threw you in that black room of hurt and I want you to close your eyes and picture someone who you trust  to stand with you in that black room and exit it together.

You are free to kick open the door, spit on every wall of doubt that blocked your mind with anything that said "You are bad, you are nothing."

I want you to go through every cell that got slammed into your fingers and every cross that crucified your child.

I want you to stand up with your hero and say what you need to say to every voice that blackmailed you and robbed you of every luminous feather.

You can scream, cuss, burn off the demon's skin with every kind of fire they threw at you with.

You may do whatever it is you need to do to whoever it is that needs to suffer.

There are no limits now.
You are free to let that child roar out dragons that were buried in the dungeons of suppression and let them burn it down.

You can say whatever you want.
Be free to dismantle their prison by whatever means necessary.

Now I want you to go back in time before any black whispers skated across your inexhaustible lake and I want you to pick up every luminous feather they plucked from your wings and
I want you to find that champion hawk who flies in your heart and place them back in the right spot.

I want you to climb the
highest tree top of your dreams
with that beautiful hawk on your shoulder and sit there for a moment and remember how free you once were before anything dark was allowed to taint your life.

I want you to drink in the air of pine.
I want you to erase the cubicle of your work prison telling you to write reports or to type in data.

I want you to sit there and remember the peace of your soul, allow the magic of Sun hitting water fill you with Power and everlasting beauty and love.

Now I want you to take your hawk and say whatever comes to mind. You are free now.

Now I want you to dive from that tree top and forgive them all, even yourself for anything that may be eating through your ribs.

Remember how to fly.
Remember.  Remember.
Remember your true self the way you were before anything else.

Let it all go.
Feel how light you are now.
Light enough to slip into a hawk.
Fly on. Fly. Fly. Fly.

Drink it all in.

The rush of summer blue.
The clear lake of possibility.
The clouds of timeless canvas.
Rise higher if you want.

You are free.
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